Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day!

Since today is Mother's Day (as well as because we both needed a rest after yesterday's hike on Mission Peak), I thought it appropriate to write about two of the people we are hiking in honor of: our moms.

I have been blessed to have the best mom anyone could have asked for. (No, she's not perfect, but then again, who of us is?) Not that I always realized this. Far from it. I went through my rebellious stage like most children do, albeit a bit later than most.

Mom did all the things that good mothers are supposed to do. She kept a tidy home (well, hospital clean, actually), patched up and repaired our clothes, made sure we had good food to eat, and referreed our many sibling rivalries. She made, and still does make, a home that is warm and inviting to live in. She ferried us back and forth from up to four different schools and was involved to some degree in all of them.

I mentioned that she makes a warm and inviting home. This is particularly at Christmas when her artistic flair has an opportunity to express itself. My favorite Christmas tree is still the fir that bore all of the sequined ornaments that she painstakingly made by pushing pins into styrofoam balls. Some years it has been golden ribbons, bows and icicles on the tree. Last year it was a tree full of hand crafted needlepoint ornaments. She's been working on these for years. Every child, spouse-in-law, and grandchild received a hand crafted needlepointed Christmas stocking to hang on the mantle.

If the ordinary duties of motherhood weren't enough, there were the extraordinary duties of a mother to her disabled child - me. Yes, I have a disability though I am sometimes loathe to admit it. Mom knew something was wrong, though it took several years for the doctor's to figure out that I had epilepsy, as well as a bladder and a ureter valve that were malfunctioning. Mom went to all of the doctor's appointments, all of the EEGs, all of the surgeries. She crocheted a blanket while at my hospital bed in less than one week, so you can imagine how much time she spent there. (I would still have that blanket if it weren't for Mom tossing it because it had a hole in it. Hospital clean!) She administered all of my meds. When some of those meds caused serious adverse reactions, she was there to pick me up, dust me off, and get me readjusted, alternatively medicated, and otherwise back on track.

Needless to say, with all of this medical stuff going on, school was difficult. I should have flunked out of eighth grade. Mom - and Dad too - never stopped believing in me. They never told me I was limited, even if I couldn't drive a car. Instead, they told me I could be anything I wanted. What Mom - and Dad - wanted most for us was that we would excel and be happy at whatever we did. By the time I graduated from high school, I had not only caught up, I had made honor roll at least once.

This didn't mean, however, that "No" was an unknown word. There were moral limits to our behavior, which our parents were very clear about. The disciplinarian duties fell to Mom more often than not. There were consequences for bad behavior. (There still are and always will be even after our parents are gone for it is not our parents who make up the rules. The "rules" spring from our human nature.) More than our physical needs were being taken care of. We were being taught how to live in society. We were being civilized, as all children should be.

"Education is the transmission of civilization." - Wil & Ariel Durant

I remember many times having conversations with Mom while she was cooking dinner, bringing up problems I was facing at school or elsewhere. She would often respond with a question, "What if ..." It was through those "What if"s that I began to explore the consequences of my own proposed actions. Of course, as I soon learned, there were many possibilities that I had never considered. My education didn't consist merely of academics and athletics. My mother added the dimension of good character, ethics, and morality.

Now that I am a mother myself, I have a whole new appreciation for what my own mother accomplished with all of us. I'm more aware than ever that motherhood is a multi-faceted, never-ending, time consuming, sometimes thankless job, and always full of surprises. It's the toughest job you will ever love.

When I married Duane in 1998, my new mother-in-law welcomed me into her family. Gentle and kind, she always had our room ready when we were in town for a visit. Over the years, I've also acquired some fantastic recipes, including how to make lefse (a Norwegian potato flatbread) and her wonderfully tasty corn bread, which I have shared with others. Like my own mother, she is artistic and paints landscapes as well as Rosemaling, the decorative folk painting of Norway. Several of my mother and mother-in-law's paintings hang in our home.

When World War II broke out she, like many women of her generation, went to work. My mother-in-law was a "Rosie the Riveter"! Her most important job, however, was that she along with her husband, successfully raised three sons to manhood, one of whom became the man I would marry, the love of my life. I see much of my mother-in-law in Duane.

I am blessed to have both of them in my life.

Here's to mothers and motherhood! This hike's for you!